Hamaratia
by Velgamidragon
Summary: Oneshot. SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 1008. Conan's greatest fear was that the Black Organization would discover Shinichi Kudo was still alive. The alias of Conan Edogawa was just the shield with which he used to protect that secret. He should have worked harder to hide his shield.


**Author's Note: The idea for this came to me yesterday. The title for this fic is the Greek word for 'tragic flaw' referring to the tragic flaws of Greek heroes that ultimately bring about their downfall. Conan spends so much time worrying about his identity as Shinichi Kudo being discovered by the Black Organization, but does absolutely nothing to protect his identity as Conan. This fic is an AU anyway, but I guess I would place it some time after Amuro's appearance, but before the Bell Tree Mystery Train episodes.  
**

 **WARNING: Spoilers for Chapter 1008 on the Boss's identity.**

 **Disclaimer: Gosho Aoyama-sama owns Detective Conan. I am merely playing around with the characters and the universe.**

* * *

 _ **Hamaratia**_

It was the deepest midnight black with dark storm clouds blocking out the stars and the half-moon from above and only the neon lights of building signs and blips of car lights shining from below. Far above it all in a towering skyscraper beyond the reach of peons, a man dressed in a long black coat sat at a long, wooden desk in a dimly-lit office on the topmost floor. He looked very old. Ancient, withered, and lined, with gnarled hands, a hooked nose like a beak, and sharp, sunken-in eyes. His crown had long since been bare of hair, though the rest of his thin silver strands were rather long for an old man, and his posture, not that of a tall man to begin with, was permanently stooped with age. He could have easily been over a hundred years old.

A knock resounded at the door and the lines around his eyes and mouth creased imperceptibly. "Enter," he beckoned, a harsh, commanding sound.

The door opened and another man in a long black coat entered. He closed the door behind him and strode purposefully forward to the desk and the man sitting behind it until he was standing before it.

His hair too, was long and silver, a natural-born color, and it flowed fine and straight like a silvery waterfall down to his thighs. By contrast to the man opposite him, who better resembled a haggard old crow than a person, he was still quite young, not yet thirty. Even sitting, he would have been tall, and standing, he towered over the man behind the desk. His thick coat and the loose turtleneck underneath masked his figure to a degree, but could not hide the full breadth of his shoulders. Though not as broad as some, he was by no means a lamp post. His skin was smooth save for a scar upon his left cheek and his face was made of all sharp, prominent angles. Long bangs hung low across his face, almost completely obscuring the cold, murderous green eyes from view. The ages between these two men could not have been more different than that of the new moon from the full.

"You've arrived later than I would have expected of you, Gin," the old man said. A raised eyebrow, a warning note.

The much younger man, Gin, inclined his head noticeably. A deferential acknowledgment. "I've been busy today, sir," he said apologetically.

The old crow closed his eyes and waved one of his hands as if to sweep the matter aside. "It cannot be helped," he sighed. "You are nothing if not thorough. I take it then that you have not had time to read the newspaper yet?"

Gin shook his head slightly. "No, sir, but Vodka mentioned that the Phantom Thief Kid heist from last night was on the front page."

Malevolent black eyes glittered knowingly in the half-light. "Vodka serves you well as your subordinate, Gin."

He pulled open one of the drawers in his desk and from within, he drew out a folded newspaper and presented it to his youngest, most loyal executive agent. "I want you to read over the heist. You may do so right now and please, take your time. I am in no hurry."

Gin accepted the newspaper and unfolded it. Forest green eyes carefully read through the article twice. Once for the content and the second time for any details he may have missed. When he had finished, he folded it back up and gave it back to the Boss.

"Interesting read?" the old man asked with a sly smile.

Gin stuck his hands in his coat pockets and frowned slightly. "Kid failed to claim the object of his heist again, but I don't see how that is worth your notice, sir. The Organization doesn't care for jewels."

The old man chuckled and unfolded the newspaper just enough to see the full picture on the first page. "True, that's the other group's _modus operandi_ , but it's not the jewel that caught my eyes this time. It's this boy."

"Conan Edogawa, the Kid Killer?"

"Yes," he sighed as he leaned back in his chair, his black eyes fixed on the picture of the child and his smile a thin, cruel line. "You know well that his efforts have thwarted many of the Phantom Thief Kid's heists in the past and that's how he earned that nickname. Don't you think it's amazing that this first-grader is able to thwart the likes of the Moonlight Magician where the police are left baffled and chasing their own tails? An exceptionally clever and perceptive mind must reside behind those glasses, especially for his young age, wouldn't you say?"

Gin's green eyes widened in sudden understanding. "You want to recruit him into the Organization. Is that wise, sir?"

The old man looked up from the newspaper at last and raised an eyebrow. _Very_ few people were allowed to question his decisions once they were made. "What are you thinking, Gin?" But the young man who stood before him was one of them.

"Conan Edogawa lives at the Mouri Detective Agency under the protection of the famous 'Sleeping Sleuth', Detective Kogoro Mouri. If a child under his care were to suddenly disappear, he would undoubtedly do everything in his power to try and find him and this man also has strong connections with the police. He would be a formidable adversary to contend with."

The old man nodded. "You bring up valid points, Gin, but nothing that I haven't already considered myself. We would have to act very carefully and absolutely cannot risk any exposure. Children go missing all the time, but if it comes down to it, I have no compunctions about eliminating the whole Mouri family to get to this boy."

Gin grinned slightly at this, but then masked his expression once more. "But will it even be worth it to kidnap him?" he pressed. "He's young and impressionable, but he's constantly surrounded by detectives and police. Can such a child really be molded into a tool for the Organization?"

The old man smirked at this lieutenant. "Ahh, I see where this is going." He set the paper down on the desk and leaned forward, propping his elbows on the desk and resting his chin upon his interlaced fingers. "You're concerned he may end up like little Sherry, aren't you?"

Gin hid it well, but he could see that the blonde young man was clearly discomfited. The old man never would have expected it of such a cautious, guarded person, but Gin had become ensnared in _the woman's web_ and fallen in love with that foolish slip of a girl. Even now, long after her escape, he was still bound to that woman. His desire to hunt her down and kill her himself was as much for the Organization as it was for personal reasons, to avenge himself on the one who betrayed him. With anyone else, he might have been concerned that any lingering feelings the young man may still harbor would have prompted him to spare the girl, but he had no such concerns about Gin.

"You needn't be worried about that," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand after he unlaced his fingers. "In hindsight, there were steps we could have taken with the Miyano sisters early on to further reduce the likelihood of betrayal. We allowed them too much freedom, especially perhaps young Akemi Miyano, foolishly presuming that their birth into the Organization would be enough to indoctrinate them to our ways and ensure their loyalty. We will not make that same mistake again."

Gin's mouth thinned, but made no objection. Conceding, but not convinced. "It will be difficult to reverse the damage, if it's even reparable," he pointed out quietly.

The old man gave a slight shrug. "Naturally. The things worth having don't come easily. While there's no guarantee that we'll be successful in recruiting this boy to our cause nor that he won't betray us in the future, the potential rewards for investing in him are tremendous. At the age of seven, this boy is so consistently capable of thwarting the Phantom Thief Kid that he has been given the nickname 'Kid Killer' and is specifically invited by the police to deal with him. Once is luck, twice is a fluke, but thrice is skill. If we could recruit him to our cause, imagine what he could be capable of ten or twenty years from now. He could be your apprentice in the making, the next executive agent."

A grimace briefly contorted Gin's expression like he'd bit into something sour. "Am I insufficient, sir?" he said, just barely keeping the jealous growl out of his voice.

The old man smirked in amusement and settled back into his chair. "Hardly, but you will not live forever. Think of this boy as insurance rather than an usurper. He will not be able to challenge you for several years yet."

The weight of his unspoken words hung in the air between them like dense fog. The temptations of women and the looming threat of old age dulled a man's senses like no other, and no man knew this better than one Renya Karasuma. Gin was young and spry, still in his prime, but like all men, he too would suffer the whims of age. Like Pisco, he would eventually make a fatal mistake, one that might cost the Organization's secrecy. And like Pisco, he would be executed for that mistake, but killing a man of Gin's caliber would not be an easy task. Yes, Karasuma didn't just want the boy to be trained to become an executive agent, he wanted him trained to become Gin's executioner should the need arise. The _silver_ of Gin's bullet. Gin was too smart, too experienced, to not realize this and it was a testament to both his self-control and his loyalty to the Organization that he did not protest. He did not appear any mollified for it though.

"It will take time to acquire him, sir," Gin said at last in acquiescence to his wishes.

Karasuma chuckled. "Time is something we have in abundance."

Gin leaned forward and placed his hands palms-down on the edge of the desk. His green eyes stared at him with intense focus. "Sir, about Vermouth-"

"-Weigh your words carefully when you speak of my favorite…" the old crow warned, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Or they may be the last you ever say in this world."

"Vermouth is too close to Kogoro Mouri," the fair-haired man continued relentlessly. "The day that Kir was captured by the FBI, before we knew they were involved and still believed Kogoro Mouri had planted the transmitter on Kir's shoe, Vermouth protested my order to eliminate the Sleeping Sleuth. For the success of this mission, I ask that we please not inform Vermouth of our intentions to kidnap that boy. I don't know how she will react if she knows of the plan in advance, and I don't want to take the risk that she may interfere with it in some way." A thin sneer curled his lips. "It would not be the first time as of late that she went off following her own secret agenda and caused a mess of trouble for the Organization."

Yes, he was well aware of the incident Gin was referring to. "Very well, Gin, if it will ease your conscience about the matter, then Vermouth will not be included in the preparations or the action."

"And Bourbon," Gin added.

Karasuma raised a skeptical eyebrow at his young executive. "Why not? He already works part-time at the Poirot Café underneath the Mouri Detective Agency. His intel could prove invaluable in this endeavor. Are you certain you're not letting your personal animosity towards him interfere with your judgement?"

"My dislike for him has nothing to do with this and it is precisely because he's already in such close proximity to the Mouri Detective Agency that I don't want him involved," Gin insisted. "He has been there long enough to have gathered the necessary intel, but not enough to not be considered suspicious in a professional kidnapping."

Karasuma exhaled slowly and shot him a swift, piercing look, pinning him in place. "I will concede secrecy from Vermouth, Gin, but if your desire to keep this operation secret from Bourbon interferes with the plan coming together at all, I will order Bourbon to work with you on this assignment, whether you like it or not. And you do not have permission to kill him if he finds out about the kidnapping plan on his own, am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," Gin said softly and he drew back. His hands returned to his pockets and his bangs obscured his eyes.

"You may leave now, Gin. You have a lot of work ahead of you and I expect regular updates on your progress," Karasuma said dismissively.

"Understood." Gin bowed his head once, then turned around and strode out of the office, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

Once he was gone, Karasuma picked up his cane and leaned on it to stand up. His movements were stiff and slow, but he managed it and approached his prized liquor cabinet off to the right side of his office from his desk. With a dexterity his fingers didn't look like they still possessed, he opened the latches for the glass doors and the wooden cupboard below. From the cupboard, he withdrew a bottle and a glass and set them on the small table just to the right of the liquor cabinet. Then behind the glass doors, he pulled out yet another bottle.

Karasuma held it up to his eyes, examining the label and smiled darkly. "London Dry gin. The bitter gin was originally mixed with tonic water by the British soldiers stationed in India and ironically made the equally bitter malarial medicine more palatable. While no longer medically useful, the mixed drink has since become a famous cocktail, gin and tonic. So…"

He unscrewed the lid from the bottle and started pouring the clear liquid into the glass until it was half full. Then he set it down and opened the other bottle, pouring a different, equally-clear liquid into the remainder of the glass. He took the glass in hand and peered within, observing the bubbles from the carbonation scurrying like mice to the top.

"… let this _Gin_ be mixed with the bitter medicine of this work and bring about something delightful to taste."

He raised the glass, a toast, and brought the glass to his lips, downing the gin and tonic with ease.

"Perfect."

* * *

 _Finally I got to write the Boss of the Black Organization! I've been dying to ever since his reveal, but I didn't have any good ideas!_

 _There's a bit of double wordplay going on with the line '_ _The ** _silver_** of Gin's bullet'. 'Gin no Dangan' with a hard 'g' sound is the Japanese translation of 'Silver Bullet'. But if the pronunciation is with a soft 'g', then the English translation is 'Gin's Bullet'. In other words, Conan is both the Silver Bullet and Gin's Bullet (The audience is intended to take the 'Silver Bullet' meaning from Vermouth in regards to bringing down the Organization, but Karasuma thinks of the silver because of both Gin's hair color and the reputation of silver as a weapon against monsters).  
_

 _Shinichi does not in any way see himself as Conan and he relies on that as his crutch to protect his otherwise normal life. 'Conan' is protecting Shinichi, but he doesn't think to protect Conan and doesn't hide the fact that he's the Kid Killer who thwarts the Phantom Thief Kid's heists. His impulsive need to solve cases leads to his disregard for Conan, and this is his 'hamaratia'. Granted, I don't know how he'd even **try** and keep that secret, but the point still stands that he doesn't even consider the possibility that the media attention he receives as Conan may end up coming back to haunt him. The Organization is not above using children, and he doesn't think they'd be even a **little** interested in a boy who so completely foils the Phantom Thief Kid at such a young age?_


End file.
